Οκτώ χρόνια πριν, στην επέτειο των 400 χρόνων από τη γέννηση του William Shakespeare, ο Rufus Wainwright μελοποιεί μια σειρά σονέτων, σε ένα άλμπουμ όπου συναντιώνται, σύμφωνα με τον ίδιο, η αγάπη του για την κλασική μουσική και εκείνη για την ποπ. Το ‘Take All My Loves’ κυκλοφόρησε από την Deutsche Grammophone.
Ακούμε τρία απ’ τα τραγούδια του, ένα “κλασικότροπο”, ένα “ποπ” και ένα “ενδιάμεσο” : τα δυο πρώτα ερμηνεύει η σοπράνο Anna Prohaska, το τρίτο η Ηelena Bonham Carter και ο συνθέτης.

Eight years ago, on William Shakespeare’s 400th birthday anniversary, Rufus Wainwright sets to music a series of sonnets, in an album where his love for classical music meets the one for pop, according to himself. ‘Take All My Loves’ was released by Deutsche Grammophone.
We hear three of its songs, one “classical”, one “pop” and one “in-between”: the first two performed by soprano Anna Prohaska, the third by Elena Bonham Carter and the composer.

00:00 WHEN MOST I WINK

When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see
For all the day they view things unrespected
But when I sleep in dreams they look on thee
And darkly bright are bright in dark directed

Then thou whose shadow shadows doth make bright
How would thy shadow’s form form happy show
To the clear day with thy much clearer light?
When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so
Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com

How would I say mine eyes be blessed made
By looking on thee in the living day?
When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade
Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay

All days are nights to see ’til I see thee
And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me

04:56 A WOMAN’S FACE

A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted
Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;
A woman’s gentle heart, but not acquainted
With shifting change, as is false women’s fashion;
An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;
A man in hue, all hues in his controlling,
Much steals men’s eyes and women’s souls amazeth.
And for a woman wert thou first created;
Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,
And by addition me of thee defeated,
By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.
But since she prick’d thee out for women’s pleasure,
Mine be thy love and thy love’s use their treasure.

08:44 UNPERFECT ACTOR

As an unperfect actor on the stage
With his fear is put besides his part
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage
Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love’s rite
And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay
O’ercharged with burden of mine own love’s might
O let my books be then the eloquence
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast
Who plead for love and look for recompense
More than that tongue that more hath more expressed
O learn to read what silent love hath writ!
To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit

As an unperfect actor on the stage
Who with his fear is put besides his part
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage
Whose strength abundance weakens his own heart
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love’s rite
And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay
O’ercharged with burden of mine own love’s might

As an unperfect actor on the stage
Who with his fear is put besides his part
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage
Whose strength abundance weakens his own heart
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love’s rite
And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay
O’ercharged with burden of mine own love’s might

As an unperfect actor on the stage
With his fear is put besides his part
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage
Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love’s rite
And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay
O’ercharged with burden of mine own love’s might
O let my books be then the eloquence
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast
Who plead for love and look for recompense
More than that tongue that more hath more expressed
O learn to read what silent love hath writ!
To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit

O learn to read what silent love hath writ!
To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit